


Life and Death and Valinor

by Runewif (Wynja2007)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elrond Still Not a Charmer, Maia in Middle Earth, Unexpected Reuninions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13856886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynja2007/pseuds/Runewif
Summary: Glorfindel finds himself in Valinor and reconnects with an old friend…





	Life and Death and Valinor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the first Teitho Challenge of 2018.
> 
> Major Character Death is non-graphic.
> 
> This story is intended as a stand-alone, and is not connected with any other 'verses I may write.

It hurt, of course.

But it wasn’t the agony of last time… it was odd, but he’d always wondered which would hurt more, dragon fire or balrog flame… now he knew, balrog, no contest.

He’d been lucky, he supposed, if you could call this lucky. The dragon he’d been fighting had flamed just as he’d run it though with his blade, so the flames barely singed him. But he’d been raked by its talons and, to add insult to injury, it had fallen on him in its death throes.

So now he was pinned under a dead dragon, feeling a dull ache, ache, ache in his hip and side, and knew it for his life blood pulsing out of him. Not gushing or spurting out, but steadily relentless.

Still. Could have been worse.

Anyway, he was tired. Tired of Middle-Earth, tired of fighting even though the War of the Ring was long over. All he wanted was to leave it all behind and go home, go properly home to Tirion…

He’d always imagined he’d be going by ship, though. Nice sea voyage, floating over the waves…

Glorfindel drifted in and out of consciousness, reaching towards the blessed peace of oblivion when a spike of pain brought him back again. He swore and waited for it to pass before beginning to float away again…

A snort jolted him awake and he focussed fuzzy eyes to find his horse’s muzzle looming into focus. Asfaloth bumped his head softly into Fin’s shoulder and snorted sadly, and Glorfindel tried to lift a hand to rub the velvet nose, just like Asfaloth liked.

‘Hello, old fellow,’ Glorfindel said. ‘We’ve been through some times, eh? Wish you could talk, I’ve often wondered what you thought of some of the things… Well, this is it for me, old friend. Melpomaen will look after you…’

He sighed. He’d known Asfaloth since he was a young, spindly colt, watched him grow to be the brightest of horses, a silver, flashing stallion with creamy, tumbling mane and tail like sea foam sparkling. When it came time for the young horse to be introduced to harness, nobody could get near him, not even Elrond’s adopted son Estel, who liked to think he had a way with horses.

Glorfindel smiled to himself, allowing the memory to take him away from the pain…

*

After the third time Estel had been sent flying across the stall, he’d helped him up gently led him from the stable to give him into the care of his watching foster-father.

‘Tell you what, Elrond,’ he’d said. ‘Let me try. This fellow… he’s probably a bit tall for our Estel, anyway.’

‘Just what are you proposing, Glorfindel?’ Elrond had asked.

‘If the horse takes to me, let me work with him. You know I’ve been without a regular steed for years, I just can’t find a horse that suits. But this fellow… well, we could do amazing things together, I’m sure.’

Elrond raised his infamous eyebrow.

‘We should see what Estel thinks to that,’ he said.

‘Well, we could…’ Glorfindel said. ‘But the places that lad’s going to, in his future, the things he’ll be doing, he needs a horse that doesn’t show up so much. Now, me, it doesn’t matter; they always see me coming, no matter what I do. Can’t hide hair like this, I’m afraid. And you won’t be able to hide this horse, either.’

‘You do rather bring it on yourself, Glorfindel; even for one of the First Born you are somewhat… flamboyant…’

‘Ada…’ Estel sighed ruefully. ‘Perhaps Glorfindel is right. And it’s clear the horse does not like me. Besides, yes, he is very tall, and it’s a long way to fall…’

‘Of course,’ Elrond put in, ‘Glorfindel will have to convince the horse first…’

Glorfindel bowed his head and vaulted over the stable door. The young stallion looked at him in a way that seemed oddly knowing, the huge brown eyes which had flashed fire and fury at Estel and sundry stable-hands suddenly seeming kind and friendly… The stallion ducked his head, giving it a shake as he did so. Not really sure what to do next, but desperate to befriend the horse, Glorfindel shrugged, smiled, and winked.

‘Nice horsey,’ he said.

It was intended just to acclimatise the horse to the sound of his voice, to engage with him in a friendly sort of way, but to his astonishment, the horse approached calmly, snorted into Glorfindel’s neck and breathed on his face. Startled but grinning, Glorfindel turned, glancing over his shoulder and heading out of the stall towards the training paddock. The horse followed as if he’d known Glorfindel forever and stood for him, allowing himself to be decked out in soft leather harness, Glorfindel talking softly to him all the time, this is a saddle pad, not that you will need a saddle, but if we ever have to carry things, it might be useful, and here is a collar for round here, we can fix some bells to it, if you like… and the headstall, what about plumes? Do you think you’d like plumes…? Probably you’re right, just get in my eyeline, and anyway, you’re splendid without… 

‘What’s your name, then, nice horsey? I’m Glorfindel, and you are…? Asfaloth, well, that’s a lovely name!’ Glorfindel turned to where Estel and Elrond were watching. ‘He says he’s called Asfaloth!’

‘Asfaloth. Of course it is, and we had named him Silvertine, but if you say his name is Asfaloth…’ Elrond gave a rueful shake of the head. ‘A shrug and a grin from the Balrog-Slayer never fails to impress, elf, human, or horse, it appears. Well, claim your prize. May he bear you always to fortune.’

‘Elrond, I’d rather he just always brought me home.’

 

*

‘And you did, old fellow, you always brought me home safe. Or got me to the nearest inn, which was better, sometimes…’ 

Glorfindel sighed. 

He was cold now, and it was harder to breathe, harder to see even the silver of Asfaloth’s bright coat. He could still fell the soft, fuzzy skin of the stallion’s nose, but distantly, somehow, as if sensation was fading from his fingers. As the darkness increased at the edges of his vision, a bright light began to grow in the centre, voices, suddenly, distorted and clamouring…

_‘Look! It’s Glorfindel!’_

_‘And the dragon, it is dead…’_

_‘Someone, get help, I think he is hurt…’_

_‘My lord? My lord Glorfindel…?’_

*

The brightness parted and a figure emerged. Glorfindel recognised the stern-yet-happy face of Lord Námo smiling down at him.

‘Glorfindel, my old friend! Well done!’

Before Glorfindel could phrase an answer, the Lord of Mandos continued.

‘And all these years you have been here…! Bravely lived, mellon-nin, and bravely ended. So. Time for some last words. Better make them good, sum up all the important moments of your life; after all, you didn’t have chance last time…’

Glorfindel smiled and took his last breath in as his fingers fell from Asfaloth’s nose.

‘Nice horsey,’ he said.

*  
Glorfindel hadn’t been long the Halls of Waiting when he was called into the presence of Lord Námo. The Doomsman of the Valar was in relaxed mood, taking his ease in a leather arm chair beside a fire, reclining with a beaker of strong spirits in his hand.

‘Glorfindel, thank you for coming. You have had enough time, I think, for reflection… how do you feel your last life was…?’

‘Busy.’ A sigh. Looking back, that’s really how he saw it. Never a dull moment, always dashing around, saving the day… no, killing. Killing Orcs, Men, when he had to, various dark and deadly creatures… dragons… and yes, they had to be killed, but it wasn’t always their fault… ‘I have too much death on my hands, my lord. I had the gift of healing, and I seemed only ever to end lives…’

‘Oh, no, you saved them, too. The tally comes out on your side, Glorfindel, by quite a margin. Let go your regret for the deaths you had to cause…’ Námo made a minimal gesture with the long fingers of one hand, and Glorfindel felt a weight lifting from his fëa. ‘Yes, I think you have done well. Of course, one could question your friendships… there was a certain Silvan…?’

‘Ah. We were thrown together at a time when both of us were vulnerable. I had just lost faith in one I trusted, and the Silvan had just been jilted in unfortunate circumstances… we brought each other healing, and growth…’

‘…and the young Noldo…?’

‘That was different. Mutual comfort and solace, neither of us could be with the person we most wanted to be with, and so…’ Glorfindel shrugged. ‘I never found my fëa-mate, but Mel and I were very kind to each other.’

Námo laughed. ‘Yes, indeed, and neither of your partners were hurt by your actions. So, it seems to me, Glorfindel, that I have no reason to keep you here, other than your scintillating wit and wonderful conversational skills… and I hope not to find you in my Halls again, do you hear?'

‘Yes, my lord. Does this mean I can go?’

‘Indeed it does. See yourself out; there will be a little bundle of necessities for you to take with you; close the gates as you go, won’t you?

*

The great doors shut behind him, Glorfindel shouldered his pack and tried to get used to being corporeal again. It was odd to leave the Halls, to know he was home, that he had forever in front of him. Walking was just as he remembered, but it felt like rather a long time since he’d done any… it seemed a very long way to the gates. Impossible to see what was beyond them; the iron railings that marked the boundary showed only an indistinct, fuzzy greenery beyond; only once the gates opened and he passed through would he see Valinor with proper sight again.

That it was beautiful he remembered from his first life; he had been born here, after all, in fair Tirion, and he wondered if his natal city was still as lovely as in the days of his youth…

The gates creaked open and clanged shut and…

Oh. Beautiful indeed, the colours clearer and crisper, the air soft and warm, the sky as blue as his eyes were said to be, rolling greenery, soft shapes of trees in the distance… 

He breathed deeply, closing his eyes the better to absorb the tranquillity… and a shout hailed him, disturbing the vision of loveliness as he turned towards the shout.

There was a welcome party.

Or, rather, several parties. Two individuals were off to one side, a little apart from each other. One wore formal, elegant robes. He was dark haired and had the bearing of a herald, while the other was more simply dressed and with startling creamy, silvery hair were off to one side. 

The main group, which now advanced, was led by a tall, dark-haired figure he remembered of old: Lord Elrond. Behind him, several vaguely familiar faces, knights of the household, friends and hangers-on, none of Glorfindel’s old friends… he had just time to wonder why Erestor or Lindir or Mel hadn’t tagged along when Elrond reached him.

‘Glorfindel, old friend.’

‘Elrond. You look well. The air here must agree with you.’

‘Thank you. It is good to see you. Now, I am sure you will be wondering what to do with yourself, but do not fear; you are welcome to make your home with us in Happy Valley.’ Elrond gestured expansively to the left. ‘There is plenty of work and it is not far.’

‘That’s very kind of you, Elrond… where’s Erestor?’

‘Ah.’ Elrond shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Once you are settled in, there will be plenty of time to catch up…’

‘It’s not like him to miss a reunion. Very punctilious, and he was my good friend… where are you hiding him?’ Glorfindel peered around Elrond, just in case Erestor had been obscured by others of the group. ‘Not here? Got him busy in your library?’

‘In fact, Erestor does not work for me any longer. He has a vineyard, of all things…’

‘Really?’ Glorfindel grinned. ‘Now, that sounds interesting! I must pay him a visit… how are the lads? Busy, I suppose?’

‘Elladan and Elrohir are somewhere... I see them every year or so, but really, they are old enough to have their own concerns… so, come. We have a spare horse for you. You will like the Happy Valley, Gil and I have worked hard to make it like Imladris, in the early days.…’

Gil? Elrond had set up with Gil-Galad…? No, that would be far too much like the old days... Glorfindel shook his head.

‘Actually, Elrond… while I am very grateful, I think I’d rather not, at present. I want to look around me first, see my old home, find my old friends. But thank you.’

Just for a moment Elrond’s eyes drew together in anger. Then he relaxed. ‘Of course. Just ask for the Happy Valley, everyone will tell you where it is. Welcome to Valinor, Glorfindel.’

Elrond’s party retreated and the two remaining elves glanced at each other. Hoping to make it easier, Glorfindel began closing the distance between them

‘Who’s next?’ he asked cheerfully, spreading his hands wide. ‘I must admit, I really didn’t expect people to be lining up to talk to me…!’

The pale haired elf gestured towards the formally-gowned ellon, who bowed thanks and advanced.

‘A missive have I here from my lord Turgon of New Gondolin, who sends greetings to Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower. He invites Lord Glorfindel to visit at any time which may be convenient to him, and should he wish to make his home amongst his former people, Lord Glorfindel will be most welcome.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ Glorfindel smiled warmly and accepted the folded document. ‘I don’t think I know you…?’

‘I am Morfindirion of the House of the Fountain.’ The ellon gave a tentative smile. ‘I believe you know my father, Lord Ecthelion?’

‘You’re Thel’s lad?’ Glorfindel laughed, seeing a resemblance now in the set of the jaw, the glitter of the eyes. ‘Well, I never had him down for marriage! I’m pleased, I’m glad to hear it; he deserves happiness. It’s good to meet you.’

‘And you, my lord, I have heard all the stories…’

‘Oh, not quite all, I hope…? How is he, your father?’

‘He is well, but away from New Gondolin at present, and so I am sent to bear the greetings I know he would like to make. If you wish to come back with me now, it will be well. But… I heard you say to the other lord, you have your own plans, and not even my lord Turgon would expect you to change your plans for him.’

‘Well, thank you, Morfindirion. I think I’d like to get used to being here before I go off anywhere else. You won’t know, of course, but it’s a bit confusing… life… death… life… death and Valinor…’ He smiled. ‘My very best wishes to your ada, and says something pretty to your mother for me, will you? I don’t suppose you’d know if I knew her…?’

The ellon shook his head. ‘I do not think so… Her name is Calaerdes.’

‘No, I don’t remember her. I’m sure I would… well, then, you tell your mother Lady Calaerdes that I promise not to keep her husband out drinking all night if I come to visit.’

Morfindirion grinned, looking for a moment so like his father it made Glorfindel blink. 

‘My mother is as like to be one of the party, my lord. I will bid you a good day, then, and hope you find what you are looking for in Valinor.’

‘Thank you, young one. I’m sure I will.’

Morfindirion bowed and strode off to where his horse was waiting patiently. Only the ellon with the unusually beautiful hair was left.

Glorfindel approached with a friendly smile, taking in the elf’s appearance in more detail. His clothes were loose-fitting, wide-legged and wide-sleeved in cream or silver with patterns in soft greens and golds, the tunic over in a soft ivory with a tracery of bright blue, and for some reason he was barefoot. His hair was braided and the plaits doubled to fasten close to his head, giving a heavy, rich swing to his hair. The long forelock that fell across his face didn’t detract from his eyes; if anything, it made Glorfindel more aware of them, a most beautiful shade of brown, unusual against his lovely hair. His smile was warm, and he held himself in a relaxed stance which nevertheless made Fin think he was nervous about something.

‘Hello,’ Glorfindel said, smiling equally warmly. ‘Alone at last. I… It’s odd, but I’m sure I know you, and yet I can’t quite place you… but I’m sure I couldn’t forget anyone as distinctive as you.’

The elf huffled out a breath, ducking his head and shaking it briefly in a gesture Glorfindel recognised but couldn’t quite place. His voice, when he spoke, was warm and resonant, and he stepped towards Glorfindel and… and breathed into his neck, sending spikes of shock and impossible recognition through him.

‘Well met, Glorfindel, at last,’ the elf said in the voice like sunshine and rainbows and lightning and soft, spring showers. ‘It’s me. Asfaloth. I’m your Asfaloth!’

*

Glorfindel took a step back and blinked. The surge of recognition warred with sudden denial as the impossibility of the statement hit him at the same moment he realised he longed for it to be true.

‘Of course you are,’ he said. ‘You do know Asfaloth was the name of my horse, my actual horse? And, well… you’re lacking a tail there for one thing, and…’

‘No, I am, I really am Asfaloth!’ There was a hint of tears in the huge brown eyes. ‘I thought you’d see, I thought you’d… recognise me, and… and we could be together again…’

‘Come now,’ Glorfindel gentled his voice, put a kind hand on the elf’s arm; Asfaloth, or whoever he was, was shaking and genuinely distressed. He thought about the huffled breath, the eyes… ‘It’s just… you must admit, it’s not very likely. And I’d love it to be true, love you to be him, he was amazing, my Asfaloth, he got me home safely more times than I can count, and I loved that horse, I really did… so you can see it might seem a bit unkind…’

‘But I am, I am your Asfaloth! And… and for every time I took you home, I took you to the inn twice… and we didn’t like anyone else riding me, but once you put a little hobbit on my back… and I let you, because I knew it mattered, that he mattered, and…oh, Glorfindel, can’t you see?’

‘I…’ Fin shook his head. ‘Can’t you? If this is a joke – and I wouldn’t put it past Elladan or Elrohir to play a prank on me – then it’s a very cruel one. But you look like I’d expect him to and… So… all right, then. If you’re Asfaloth, what were my last words?’

‘Your last words? You’re going to make me relive your death, all over again?’

Glorfindel shrugged. ‘Well, I’ll be doing the same myself…’

‘Very well. If… if it helps… you said… in fact, at one point you said you wished I could talk… but your last words, the very last ones… “nice horsey”, you said.’

‘Hmph!’ Glorfindel looked again at Asfaloth. ‘I did, I did say that. But…’

But other people had arrived at the end, he remembered that. Anyone could have heard him, and someone would have remembered, written it down… except…

Except they’d been alone when he’d said he wished Asfaloth could talk.

‘Did Lindir take care of you, then? After?’

‘A test, Glorfindel? After all we were to each other? In fact, he did, sometimes… but mostly it was Melpomaen, because he liked you. And he’d cry into my mane, like you used to do when you were sad, and he’d spill the chamomile mane-wash, and then Lindir would come and take over and talk to us both until Mel felt better. It was sad, we were all very sad, Glorfindel. Everyone was sad when you died. And nothing I say will convince you if you don’t want to be convinced, and I don’t know what I will do if you don’t believe me…’

The elf dropped to the ground in an untidy bundle of limbs, and Fin felt his heart lift and stifled a laugh as he folded himself down beside him.

‘That’s the most inelegant, graceless way to sit that I’ve ever seen in an elf! But it’s just like Asfaloth when he was a colt.’ He put his arm around the ellon’s shoulders in a comforting gesture. ‘Look, it’s not that I don’t want to believe you – I do, I really do… but… I don’t understand how it’s possible?’

Asfaloth sighed.

‘This is Valinor. Anything is possible, especially if you’re a Maia. If you’re determined.’

Curious now, tempted to believe, desperate to accept the truth of this, Glorfindel nodded.

‘Go on, then. Tell me?’

‘I saw you in Tirion, I watched you grow. I saw how everyone looked, but nobody caught your attention. I… began to wonder if I… Well. When there was all that trouble with the Oath and everything, and you left, I couldn’t bear it! I was so worried about you, I went to Tulkas, my Vala and begged permission to go after you and make sure you were safe. He laughed. Well, it’s his way, and he said I could, and the other Valar heard and were not so eager. After all that had happened, they said, it was folly for me to risk myself. But Vairё said you would have much to do in Middle Earth, and that I could help without revealing myself… they agreed, if I could do that, I would go. So it was decided that if I took animal form, I could help you all I might. But there were rules: I could not be an elf or a man, or a dwarf or even a hobbit; I was not allowed to be a person…’

‘You were always a person to me,’ Glorfindel said.

‘I know. And I am grateful. Do you see? You didn’t use the name, then, you didn’t say “Asfaloth”; you said “you”. Thank you!’

‘But I still want the story. How you became Asfaloth.’

‘I always was Asfaloth. You asked my name, remember, and I told you. Silvertine!’ Asfaloth snorted. ‘Silly name!’

‘Couldn’t agree more. So… an animal?’

‘Yes. And I was tied to the life of the creature I was, so if I became a mouse, I would live as long as a mouse. Unless an owl found me first, or a cat…I heard you tell the other elf, life, death, life, it is confusing. Believe me, I understand!’

‘So, wait, did you… take over these animals?’

‘No, not at all; I would not use another life in such a way! I became a mouse or a bird or whatever; I was the wild dog that hunted coney and ptarmigan when you crossed the frozen north. And saw you give two thirds of the kill away to other elves.’

‘Yes… but I made sure you always got your share.’

‘You did so. I was a bird, at times, I was, oh, Glorfindel, I was one of the great eagles that saw your fall, I flew keening over your cairn. And I had to live on in a world where my Glorfindel was dead.’

Asfaloth fell silent, but his shoulders began to shake. At a loss, Glorfindel shook his head and gave the elf – the Maia – a little squeeze.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I really hadn’t intended dying, you know. I quite liked Gondolin. What did you do then, did you come back to Valinor?’

Asfaloth sniffed, shook his head.

‘No, I… no. Nobody was allowed to, not at the time. Well, elves weren’t, and there was no way I could find on my own… it was rather too far to fly. I became one of those toad-things, you know, that can sleep in the rocks for years, and I kept doing that until you came back.’

‘Really? You did that, just for me?’

‘I knew, you see, that you’d be back. Vairё told me to wait for you. Do you believe me yet?’

‘I think I believed you when you breathed all over me, but… it was just a lot to take in.’

‘Does this help?’ Asfaloth reached inside his tunic and pulled something out; a handful of tarnished, misshapen, once silver bells. ‘From my harness.’

Glorfindel nodded, struggling himself now with a surge of emotion he hadn’t expected.

‘I thought… I thought, my Asfaloth would be dead, I’d never see him again, and instead, here you are.’

‘Here I am.’

‘Thank you, then. And… at the end, there. I’m so glad it was you. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have had with me.’

Asfaloth shifted to look up at Glorfindel, fluttered eyelashes. ‘Flatterer,’ he said.

Glorfindel laughed through his tears.

‘So, what I don’t understand…’

‘There is still something?’ Asfaloth huffed and got to his feet, as ungainly as when he’d been a colt. ‘What’s a fellow to do?’

‘Just bear with me. I mean, why, though? Everything you gave up, everything you must have gone through, just to be near me, to help me. Why?’

‘Don’t be silly, Glorfindel!’ Asfaloth turned, and glanced over his shoulder towards Fin as he walked off. ‘Because I love you, of course.’

‘What?’

‘That’s why many of the Valar didn’t want to let me follow you. Bound to end in tears, they said, elves and Maia… but their eyes slid off each other. I think it was because we’re both male, myself.’

‘Well… it’s probably not their fault. Sort of thing I used to meet with all the time. But, as it was explained to me, if we are all creatures of Lord Eru Iluvatar, and he made us each with our perfect soul-mate in the world, and if he chose to put male with male and female with female sometimes, then it’s how we’re meant to be, it must be all right.’ Glorfindel caught up with Asfaloth and fell into step beside him. ‘And, for what it’s worth, I never met anyone I loved as much as I did my Asfaloth… And I do, I do still care for you… only in my mind, I always saw you as I knew you…’

Asfaloth smiled as he reached across and Glorfindel’s his hand. 

‘Would it help to have your old friend back as you knew him?’

‘I… what?’

‘Here, I can do what I like with my shape, as long as I don’t frighten people. I can be your Asfaloth again.’

‘But you are my Asfaloth,’ Glorfindel said. ‘I see that, of course. Whatever shape you are, your eyes are the same, the thing that makes you you hasn’t changed…’ He sighed. ‘But, you know… I would like to see the old fellow again. As I remember him, no offence, Asfaloth…’

The Maia smiled. ‘Non taken, Glorfindel. Now, you might want to close your eyes, or look away; you might find it disturbing.’

‘I think I can probably cope.’

‘…and I need to undress. Now, I know, that in horse form you saw me unclothed most of the time, but…’

‘But that’s different. Yes. All right, then.’ Glorfindel grinned and turned his back. ‘Since you’re shy.’

…warm breath on the back of his neck, making him shiver. A soft snort in his ear, and Glorfindel turned to find the wise, kind eyes of his former steed looking down at him with tolerant affection. A lump rose in his throat and Glorfindel threw his arms around Asfaloth’s neck as he used to do, wept against the doubled braids, felt his heart fill and his fëa relax as he leaned against the horse. Everything would be well, Asfaloth really was here, he wasn’t dead, he was alive and here and still his best, dearest friend, the one he loved above anyone and anything and it was all right to stand like this, in trust and love and respect and hold on tight to Asfaloth because he saw now there had always been this deep well of love between them…

…and a sudden sense of blurring, shifting movement and it wasn’t a horse he was turning to for comfort and support, his arms were around Asfaloth’s Maian form, Asfaloth’s arms going around him, holding him close.

‘My friend, my best friend,’ Glorfindel said into the shadow of Asfaloth’s braids. ‘More than that… my dear one…’

‘Ah, Glorfindel, if you knew how long I have longed to be able to hold you while you wept against me, how much it hurt not to be able to tell you all would be well! But now…’

‘Yes, now? What, now?’ Glorfindel sniffed and pulled his face out of Asfaloth’s neck to look into his eyes. ‘Because it’s one thing to love your horse, but to be in love with him…?’

Asfaloth laughed. ‘Well, I have a little cottage down near the sea. It’s not much, but it’s got a lovely stable. If you like, you could come and stay with me? We could get to know each other properly, take our time. After all, you are an elf, I am a Maia; we have forever.’

Glorfindel smiled and looked into those glorious, rich, kind, wise brown eyes.

‘We do indeed,’ he said.


End file.
